


to be a member of the team

by Angel_Demon_Princess



Series: "thank you for these three years" - a collection of stories [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Semi Eita-centric, Shiratorizawa, also please please please, but??, i hope you enjoy, im not as happy with this one??, let me know what you think because i need validation, more tags to be added as i think of things, soooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Demon_Princess/pseuds/Angel_Demon_Princess
Summary: Semi Eita, and trying to be starting setter





	to be a member of the team

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy???
> 
> (I'm not sure about this one so please let me know what you think?? I love Semi because he's one of favorite characters and he's so underappreciated?)

The ball spiraled as it fell to the court, and he watched from the sideline as his volleyball ended, unable to stop it.

The cheering in the gym seemed muted somehow, and all he could hear was the echo of the ball hitting the floor for the final time.

It was over.

-

As a child, he first started playing volleyball with the kids from his neighborhood. It was only meant to be a joke, a way to spend more time with people his own age. 

He never meant for it to become something he would love. 

-

The summer before his first year in middle school, he spent his afternoons outside hitting the ball against the wall. By the end of the day, his arms would be burning but there was always a feeling of satisfaction brewing in his chest with every thump of the ball.

When he finally enrolled in a school, he knew that the first thing he would do was try out for the volleyball team. He hungered to play in matches, and craved for the feeling of a volleyball in his hands.

-

Through middle school, he fought for his right to be on the team, slowly making a name for himself in the volleyball community. 

All his hard work finally payed off one day in summer, when he went out to get the mail and found a letter labeled “Semi Eita” among the taxes. He picked it up and ran back inside, throwing the rest on the table and ripping open the letter none too carefully.

Pulling it out of its envelope, he unfolded the letter eagerly, his eyes scanning the paper as quickly as he possibly could.

“Yes!” He shrieked, the sound breaking the silence of the lonely house, pumping his fist in the air.

Running back outside, he took off down the street to an abandoned lot to practice some more, leaving the letter lying open on the table.

It read, “Dear Semi Eita, we are happy to inform you that you have been accepted into Shiratorizawa Academy on a sports scholarship…”

-

During the first practice of his first year he was amazed by Ushijima’s power, Tendo’s blocks and Yamagata’s receives.

He couldn’t wait to play with them more.

-

That year he practiced more than he ever had, leaving all he had on the court until he was gapingly empty apart from a hunger to win. He played in more matches, and he set to the ace.

It was a good year.

-

The next year wasn’t.

-

“The starting setter will be Shirabu Kenjiro…”

That’s all Semi heard before he tuned out the events around him, a buzzing noise filling his mind.

-

Two weeks later found him practicing religiously in the gym at midnight, having convinced the manager to give him a key on the grounds that he be responsible for cleaning and locking up after himself.

His body was burning as he pushed himself forward into another serve, jumping high to hit the ball as hard as he could to the other side. He landed harshly to the floor, his legs buckling underneath him and finally giving out to the constant abuse of the past few hours.

Shivering, his body soaked with sweat, Semi smacked his open palm against the floor in anger. A sob made its way out of his throat, tears rising to his eyes.

“D-dammit,” he said shakily, harsh pants escaping him. His chest heaved with sobs and gasps for breath, leaving him down on all fours and trembling all over.

It was 12:28am and as Semi pushed himself up again to keep practicing, a little voice in the back of his mind taunted him that all his efforts were futile. 

He was desperate to regain his position even if it killed him, because it was all he had to live for.

Volleyball had become something important to him, it had become his life.

He was a setter, a fact as clear as the color of his hair. 

He was a setter, but not in name.

(He would be.)

-

It was 2am when he finally dragged himself back into his dorm room.

-

By the end of his second year, Semi had lost a worrying amount of weight and had permanent shadows bruised under his eyes. His fingers were always bandaged and he spent more time in the gym than he did his room, but to no avail.

Shirabu was still the starting setter, and the first year played in the Inter-High tournament alongside Semi’s former teammates while the second year stood on the sideline and watched.

An ugly mix of emotions swirled in his chest, jealousy because of his replacement and anger at himself. But he bit his lip and stayed quiet.

He simply dug his nails into his palms and wished to play.

-

He didn’t know what else to do but practice more.

Maybe if he did that he would finally prove himself worthy of starting position.

-

Every day during summer found him in that abandoned lot behind the corner store. With the echoes of a full gym of squeaking shoes and a coach’s voice announcing positions echoing in his mind, Semi was brimming with a desperation to get his position back.

He practiced through the pain when he twisted his ankle and tore his muscles because of overuse. He continued practicing when his insecurities threatened to overwhelm him. He continued practicing when the sun went down and the only light was the light of the moon.

Every day he would practice until he collapsed to the ground with shaking legs and tears, and a storm brewing in his mind.

He’d then drag himself home to an empty house, and collapse into bed after a small dinner.

He was fine.

-

That following year, he tried desperately to prove to coach that he belonged on the court. He continued to stay later than anyone, his grades falling to the absolute lowest they could while staying high enough so he could remain on the team.

But was he even on the team? Would he ever be?

-

Pain became a constant, an “always there”, lurking under the surface.

-

Finally, he fought his way to pinch server, leaving behind his spot on the bench. He ignored the buzzing in his mind at the fact that it wasn’t the position he wanted, and continued to stay late in order to keep improving his serves.

He didn’t sleep much.

-

After clawing his way back on the court, he played with the desperation of a wild animal fighting for its life.

His serves continued to improve, and he adapted well to playing with the team again (because that’s what setters do - they adapt).

It was like he never left, Satori had said, crowing in delight after a great point.

Then why did it feel different?

-

Facing Karasuno, Semi couldn’t allow himself to miss his serves. He couldn’t lose the point because it would lead him back to the bench, and he was desperate to stay on the court a while longer.

Just a little while.

-

From his place on the sideline, Semi watched.

He watched as Shirabu, control evident in every movement, continued to set perfectly to Ushijima, only as flashy as needed to get the ball to his ace.

He watched as Yamagata, in a do-or-die manner, dove to get the balls falling to the court, bruises blossoming on his skin but satisfaction brewing in his eyes with every ball that went up.

He watched as Reon, reliable as ever, continued to be everyone’s rock, as steady as the first day he stepped onto the court that first practice all those years ago.

He watched as Goshiki, shining bright with passion, slammed past Karasuno’s defenders with powerful spikes and the dream of being an ace.

He watched as Kawanishi, with desire to win bleeding out from behind his apathetic mask, jumped to block every ball and bandaged his hurt fingers during water breaks in order to continue playing.

He watched as Satori, wild, ran all over the court following his crazy guesses, screaming encouragement to the team as though his life rested on the outcome of the match.

He watched as Ushijima, their eagle flying on high, destroyed the ball when he tore through the blockers, the sound a gunshot ringing in the crowded stadium.

He watched as they fought for every point, emotion clear in each action.

(He wished he was there fighting with them.)

-

When the final ball dropped, and they lost, Semi cried.

Despite his best efforts, he never again managed to set for the team as the official setter, and now he would never again have the chance.

His final opportunity was lost with this match.

-

When he and the other third years graduated, he spoke to his team.

Standing in front of them now, his carefully planned speech seemed to fall flat. Everything he wanted to say couldn’t be expressed in so short a time, but he desperately searched for a way to convey his meaning.

He opened his mouth, and tried to find the words.

“Thank you,” he began sincerely. “I wasn’t able to play on the court with you as much as I would have wanted, but every single match I did play was one I treasured. I’ll remember these years as the best of my life, and I hope you do as well.”

Here he paused, trying to find a way to go on.

“Shirabu.”  

The boy in question straightened up, staring at him directly and with a sort of defiance in his eye.

“I wanted to hate you when you stole my spot, and in a way I did. But you were so skilled and so good at adapting to everyone’s different playing style, that I had to concede that, out of the two of us, you deserved the spot more. Continue improving, and win at Inter-High next year for all of us graduating this year.” He paused and then said, "Captain.”

Semi shot the younger setter a warm smile, and saw that Shirabu looked slightly confused but still pleased with his words.

He then turned to his other junior, and couldn’t help but laugh at the way Goshiki shot up with a quick “Senpai!” after he noticed his gaze.

“Goshiki, what can I say to you except congratulations? You’re now the Ace, and you’ve worked hard for it. You definitely deserve the spot more than anyone else I can think of. Continue working hard, and don’t stop improving!”

Goshiki had tears rising in his eyes, and Semi hastily turned to Kawanishi to stop an outburst before he managed to finish all his thanks to the team.

“Kawanishi, you are undoubtedly the laziest volleyball player I have ever met.” Ripples of laughter went through the room at this. “But,” he continued, “these past two years have taught me many things about you, and none more than how much you truly care. Now that our other blockers are gone, the mantle falls to you. Continue to protect the team and block every ball you can!”

The tall second year nodded his head at his senpai, and shot him a small smile before turning away to hide the tears rising in his eyes.

Semi smiled fondly at his juniors, and then turned to his fellow third years.

“Satori--” he began, but was interrupted by Satori’s loud shout of “Here, SemiSemi!”

Shaking his head, he tried to talk over the enthusiastic blocker. “You have the craziest style I have ever seen, but it somehow works for you. Thank you for staying upbeat through the long practices and hot days, and always being yourself no matter what anyone else said.”

Quickly, and before Satori could start blubbering, he turned to Reon.

“Reon, you are the rock of our team. You were always reliable and put together even when everyone else was panicking. You’re definitely the “Mom Friend” of the group, and I want to thank you for taking care of us.”

Reon smiled brightly, with eyes starting to tinge red.

Turning to the next member, he said, “Hayato, you dove all over the court. You dove for every ball and got a good majority back. And even when you had bruises all over your body you continued to dive and return the balls. Thank you for playing as hard as you had in every match, and for never giving it any less than your all.”

The libero tried to hide his tears as he shouted his thanks at his friend.

Semi laughed at the display and turned to face the final member of the team.

“Ushijima. Captain,” he hesitated while he tried to find a way to go on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t set to you more, but I’m glad to have had the chance to do so briefly. You truly are our “Miracle Boy”, and I’m happy I got the chance to play with you.”

The ace kept a solemn look on his face as he nodded, but his eyes softened ever so slightly and that said more than words could.

Taking a deep shaking breath, Semi looked at everyone again. He tried to imprint this memory of them in his mind, standing tall in the gym for one last time.

His eyes burned with tears and his throat tightened when he opened his mouth to speak again.

“S-so,” he stumbled over his words. “Thank you for these three years! I wish I had the chance to play with you more!”

He bowed to them, and clutched his trembling hands to his sides as tears dripped down his face to hit the floor of the gym.

This was the end for him; his third year was over.

His chance had passed.

-

_ ‘I wish I could have set for you more!’ _

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought below! I love hearing your feedback!
> 
> Also, come yell at me on tumblr @angel-demon-princess about everyones favorite volleygays!!
> 
> xox


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